


Of what could have but wasn't

by YoonLolina



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, Death, Drabble, Drabble Collection, Drabble Sequence, Gen, Sad, Seventeen - Freeform, SeventeenAU, Shorts, carat, dont wanna cry era, if you dont pay attention you wont even notice it, im out of ideas, individual teasers, inspired by AL1 trailers, ptsd too, really - Freeform, slight meanie, there may be characters with depression or anxiety, this is really depressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-09 09:13:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 7,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16447010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YoonLolina/pseuds/YoonLolina
Summary: «Maybe it was destined to go wrong.Maybe not.Maybe they could have tried a little more.But it was too late now.»





	1. Vernon

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [¿Y si el reloj se detiene?](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/428333) by YoonLolina. 



> This work was inspired by AL1 individual teasers, I wrote while they were being published. Hope you enjoy it!

_**VERNON** _

The wide plain, barren and filled with eolic towers, was his hiding spot. With his bag on his shoulder and a black compass between his fingers, Hansol kept on walking.

Physically, he knew where he was. He had came back to the United States half a year ago. His family decided to stay in Korea and he didn’t wanted to ask them to join him. The fact that he lost his life there didn’t mean that they lost theirs too and Hansol didn’t had the heart to take them away from all of what became their home.

Even when his mother insisted in going with him, because she didn’t wanted to see him alone in the country that watched her grow up, she was retained by her husband and daughter who weren’t going.

And Hansol thanked them so much. He needed to be alone.

The brunet laughed. What he least wanted was to be alone, lost and adrift. But that was all he knew since Seventeen disbanded. It was stupid, of course, because they were the ones who started arguing more and more, sunk in the anger and stress that fame –what they chased desperately –was making them feel. They were problematic and nobody wanted to work with them anymore, because the schedules always ended being interrupted by their fights and even some of them leaving the set.

It all ended when their CEO threw them out of the company. Seventeen wasn’t the heartwarming group that once debuted, and he was sick of cleaning the mess they left behind everywhere they went. And when he picked up all his stuff from the apartment and went to his parents’ house, the tight pressure in his chest became unbearable. He had made the worst decision of his life and it was too late to fix it up.

That’s why he decided to plant thousands of miles between him and the members, those twelve man who were the protagonist of the most warm memories of his youth. With them, he left behind who he once was; burying Vernon in his father’s land.

Now he answered by the name of Harry. It was the closest one to Hansol, and the name his mother confessed of wanting to call him.

He was Harry Choi. And he had never felt so empty before.

Hansol closed his eyes, letting the strong bursts of wind deafen his ears. Dreaming with an alternate reality, he squeezed the compass in his hands and saw the figure of Jihoon walking towards him, making him feel as safe as when the vocal unit leader was around.

He gave a quick glance to the object on his right hand and then threw it to the older, who catched it with ease.

 

 

 

_Guide me again, Jihoon-hyung._

_I’m begging you._


	2. Jeonghan

**_JEONGHAN_ **

He marked a black x in the calendar. Another one who decorated the sheets, in the patient wait of a situation he didn’t knew.

Laughing with bitterness he threw the marker to the floor, not even caring where it landed. He walked through the apartment towards the living room, and noticed his diary and devout camera in the coffee table. Taking the last one, Jeonghan went silently to the mirror on the wall and captured a photo of his reflection.

He wanted to freeze every moment in a picture. Like he should have had done when he had his best friends on his side. And oh, how much he hated himself for all the mistakes. The worst one was giving everything for granted, thinking he wouldn’t lose that life he built, that his relationship with the members would never shatter nor wave.

 

He had a thousand photos of his new apartment, and there was not even one corner that wasn’t printed in the pictures. However, he kept on doing that stupid routine of wasting the memory of his camera. Jeonghan could call it his penance; he liked feeling punished for not having protected his friends.

Being in the balcony, looking through the camera lens, he looked to the street and spotted a familiar figure. With his heart thumping furiously, Jeonghan turned around to see in the wall the bland calendar and ran to it, grabbing a red marker and making an x on the today’s little box.

He threw it after, this time to the couch, and ran to the first floor of his empty home. Without even doubting for a second, Jeonghan opened the door and went out to the street, looking for the boy he saw from upstairs; convinced that he was one of the people Jeonghan dreaded to see. The guy was walking a few meters ahead of him, completely oblivious to the hopeless despair of the blonde who was trying to catch up to him.

But when Jeonghan finally grabbed his arm and made him turn around –noticing that the boy was a complete stranger –he felt like crying. He turned his back to the guy –who was looking at him completely confused –and slowly made his way back to his home. Jeonghan was tired, defeated, and so sick of living this way.

Picking up the black marker from the floor, he went to the calendar and covered the red x with the black ink, and then he threw himself tiredly to the couch and hide his legs under the blanket.

The diary was still in the coffee table, and he took it in his hands, along with a worn out pencil, and opened it just to write the same sentence that was in all the pages.

“Not again”.

Jeonghan groaned, represing the burning in his eyes and the tears starting to form. He didn’t had the right to cry, not when it was his fault too that Seventeen died –not when he didn’t do anything after he realized that. Nonetheless, his eyes catched the glimpse of the camera in the table, and he had to bite his lower lips and hide his head between his legs.

 

  
  
_Soonyoung loved to play with that camera._

 


	3. Mingyu

**_MINGYU_ **

He honestly didn’t knew why he bought that house in Busan. Honestly speaking, he hated it. Too big, too empty, and with so many rooms that could be occupied by those guys he loved. Besides, the silence was unbearable. After living with twelve noisy boys for over a decade, he couldn’t quite endure the distant crash of the waves against the sand, and the breeze that lulled him.

Mingyu wanted to hear laughter, complaints, jokes, anything.

He wanted to hear even the fights and angry screams if that meant seeing them again.

But what he hated the most, after those six months, was his new thing of buying everything in pairs. The couches, paintings, lamps, clocks; everything in his home had its double.

There were even two –absolutely unnecessary –pianos! He didn’t played the instrument, despite the plenty of failed attempts while he was a trainee; but they reminded him of Jihoon, Jisoo, Seungkwan… He liked to see the pianos, touch some random note and cry silently because damn it, he missed his second family.

His therapist kept on digging on the reason of him buying pairs of everything. Mingyu knew why, and he also knew that to see some progress he should say it out loud; but he didn’t want to. It was too late, so nothing could ever change even if he yelled all those truths buried in his heart; all those apologies and pleas, and the yearning to get his best friends back.

He got up from the floor –where he had been lying down for almost an hour –and went through the big house towards the kitchen. Picking up two apples from the refrigerator, he bit both, leaving a big mark in them. While he savored the sweetness of the fruit, Mingyu remembered it was the favorite of Wonwoo.

Lately he remembered everything that involved the older.

He groaned, angry, wishing –once again –to throw himself in the deepest part of the pool in his backyard and never go out again. Mix himself with the waves of the blue ocean ahead of him, it seemed good.

Anyway, he had already lost his reason to live. Without his friends on his side or the constant support that they were during more than half of his life, Mingyu even wondered if he had the right to be. 

But he was an asshole during the last months of live of Seventeen. The exhaustation got the worst of him, and it wasn’t long before the members noticed it.

The outcome of his mistakes consumed him. Mingyu didn’t wanted to be in Busan, alone, but he had nowhere else to go.

He looked to the roof and wondered where they all would be. And how they would be.

 

 

_ He wonders if Wonwoo would have liked the house he bought. _


	4. Dokyeom

**_DOKYEOM_ **

One. He stopped and looked at the chronometer. 37:33.

Without giving it a second thought, he slid the object in his hoodie and continued exercising. All he cared was running, away from his past and mistakes, and find somewhere in the horizon the life and friends he yearned.

The exercise, the pressure in his lungs and the sweat running through all his body helped him to relax. It was a poor substitute for alcohol, but he was done in drowning himself in the bottles. The need to get wasted to run away from the members’ discussions had made him the target of the attacks. For a while, Seokmin though he was able to handle it; allow them to vent the rage on him and wait for their broken pieces to become once again in those guys who stayed up all night during the weekends, talking about good stuff and telling stories inside the safe space of those walls that they called home.

Two. Again, the little screen marked the 37:33 minutes.

He had been stuck for weeks in that mark, and Seokmin really wanted to overcome it. Just some minutes, enough to see the number 31:31 in the chronometer, because it somehow reminded him of Seventeen.

Seokmin had learned to take anything, to accept any coincidence that brought him his friends back; even if it were old memories that lasted for a brief second.

He was one of the last to hit rock bottom, to rot in resentment and frustration. And maybe he shouldn’t have done it, because he could have stopped the ticking bomb that threatened them. But Seokmin got tired of it all, of having to hear the fights of the three eldest, the mean comments about everything from Jihoon, of the cold look of Wonwoo, of being in the battle field.

So he drank. He drowned those memories, the character that Dokyeom was and just enjoyed the numbing that appeared after several soju bottles.

Seokmin just wanted to forget who he was and why he needed of alcohol.

Three. He failed again. It marked 37:33.

When he exploded, Seokmin destroyed everything in his path.

Seungkwan was screaming at him, while he was massaging his temple because of a hangover headache. He didn’t even knew what the younger one was complaining for, but he had had enough.

On purpose, during those infernal months, Seokmin had ran away from all the fights and tensions between the members. He had bitten his tongue, unwilling to follow that hateful game. But if Seungkwan kept screaming, he would lose his mind.

So he made him shut up. With a blow to the jaw, strong and accurate thanks to his two daily hours at the gym, he knocked Seungkwan and _finally_ stopped the nauseating feeling that he felt because of all the yelling from the younger.

And the rest of them, after watching one of the last that still tried to seek peace to go berserk, lost it too. By the moment their managers arrived to stop things from going wilder, the apartment was already a mess and they were too. So many black eyes, bloody lips and hurt jaws. Finally, they snapped.

He didn’t even wanted to looked at the chronometer, because he knew what number would appear on it. Taking it out of his hoodie’s pocket, Seokmin threw it without stopping. He could run but wouldn’t run away from what he did. He had decided to accept his mistakes and hate himself for them.

 

 

_ If Seungkwan had been there with him, the boy would have made a dumb joke that hid his support underneath. _


	5. Woozi

**_WOOZI_ **

Jihoon was trying to solve the equations written on the window. He had so much free time that he decided to read books, lots of them. He had read so much that the only books left unread on his library were the math ones.

So there he was, locked in his room, listening to the pouring rain outside, and working on equations on his windows glasses. It had been six months of Seventeen’s disband, and he still couldn’t play an instrument without bursting into tears.

The only things he had left were the books and the reading habit, which kind of reminded him of Wonwoo and his circle specs.

And as the obsessive guy he was, Jihoon wanted answer. That’s why he wouldn’t stop playing with the numbers, since having the correct answer helped him briefly forget of the huge void in his life.

Jihoon only wanted to know when the sarcasm in his words became cruel and meant to hurt. He wanted to comprehend why he didn’t bit his tongue back then, instead of letting his own words hurt the group of people he loved the most.

But he’ll never know why. Just as he’s stuck in that stupid equation for hours now, he won’t be able to get some answers without breaking.

He played with the pencil in his hand, looking through all the room filled with open books and loose sheets, wrinkled and spilled all over the place. The melody of “Downpour” –that song he wrote thinking of the pain he’d feel if he was forced to separate from Seveenten –came to his mind and the blonde winced.

It was stupid that they were the ones who drifted away.

Getting up and walking towards the window, Jihoon ran a finger through the dry ink and tried once more to understand the symbols and numbers.

But it was useless. Granted, he knew he was quite smart, but math was never his strength. He hated the subject during high school and there was no reason to feel any different years later.

Jihoon just wanted to cuddle, protect himself from the world and let the rain hide his own tears.

 

 

_ Amongst them, the best with numbers had never been him. _

_ It was Seungcheol. _


	6. Jun

**_JUN_ **

Jun turned on the answering machine and immediately the metallic female voice announced him of a new message. Letting it play, he walked to the dining table, where a bunch of unsent letters to his friends were laying.

─ _Hey._ –Joshua’s voice made him completely halt what he was doing. – _How are you? Hmm…_ –The eldest asked, causing a weak and tired laugh come out of Jun’s mouth because were any of them actually ok? – _I don’t know why I called you but… Will we see each other again?_ –Biting his lower lip to the point of hurting, Jun looked longingly at the phone. He also wanted to know. And honestly, he didn’t knew who (if actually any of them) had the answer to that. – _No. Never mind. Bye._

Suddenly feeling a headache coming to life, Jun held his head in his hands and sat on one of the chairs. With a heavy sigh, he admitted that Jisoo was stronger than him, braver. Jisoo got the guts to contact him, even when everything ended so badly. The older’s number was on his phone memory, he could reach up and make the call to finally talk and ask for forgiveness.

But Jun didn’t dare to call back. Not when the wound still hurt so bad. Picking one of the letters at the table, he looked at the name of whom it was addressed and his direction.

It was Minghao’s. In it, he apologized a thousand times to his closest friend. In it, he said sorry in two different languages; to highlight his deep sorrow and regret.

Because, of all the members, Jun never thought he’d hurt Minghao. Of course, the younger one also fought and hurt him, deeply. But he couldn’t forgive himself of hurting Minghao, not when they came from the same country and had dealt with the same hardships as foreigners, together.

Of all his friends, he needed Minghao’s forgiveness. Just listen his laugh and forget it all, like when they argued about silly things before things went downhill.

Still holding the letters between his fingers, Jun decided to gather up some courage –just as Jisoo did –and take responsibility of his actions. Without looking for a sweater to protect himself from the cold weather, Jun left his apartment and walked through the city.

He knew Minghao pretty well and there was only one place in Korea where the guy could live besides of Seventeen’s apartment. The younger had told him plenty of times how much he liked that specific building before. And Jun even found out that his band mate moved in there right after they were kicked out of Pledis.

And after finally arriving there, Jun breathed in and out a little scared. The place wasn’t that far from his own, but Jun got lost in his own thoughts so many times that it took him twice the normal time to get there –finding himself going the wrong way or walking into an alley.

A white tall building, quite simple and discreet stands in front of him, just as he remembered it to be. Walking inside, Jun got in the old fashioned elevator and hoped to don’t get trapped there.

Minghao could look exotic on the outside, but he had always been the opposite: humble and calm.

The doors opened, revealing a long corridor and he started walking, looking for the number of his friend’s apartment. 1012, 1014… In front of number 1013, Jun stopped and knocked softly the dark wooden door. He couldn’t think much, as he decided to be sincere and fair. If Minghao didn’t accept his apologies, he’d deal with that later.

With a click, the door started to open and Jun looked up to see the person in front of him. His nervousness faded after locking his eyes with an elderly woman, with gray hair and a lot of wrinkles around her eyes.

─Minghao, does he live here? –Jun asked with a broken voice, already knowing the answer.

─ No. The person before me moved out some months ago.

He didn’t care anything else the woman could tell him, so Jun nodded and forced his own legs to move, away from that momentaneous bravery and only leaving him with a bitter aftertaste in his mouth.

 

 

_ Jun needed Minghao back. _


	7. Dino

**_DINO_ **

As Seventeen’s youngest, Chan had to admit he didn’t knew how much he needed of the other members.

Being used to be the one pampered with love; even if it was annoying to do what the olders asked, he kind of liked to be the baby –and he only realized that now.

But now, alone in his new rented apartment, Chan could only accept the reality and admit that he’ll never again would find that comfort. The place was too big for him, too spacious for a boy that lived accompanied with at least ten other people since he was twelve, sometimes being them too many in a small apartment. His father insisted on choosing that one, the biggest of all the places they looked, as his son’s new home. As if Chan actually wanted a new one.

He never wanted to leave their apartment –Seventeen’s home. Not even when things were like hell. A part of him, the innocent and childish –and the same one that caused the excessive pampers from Jeonghan –thought they would fix things up.

Hell, it didn’t even made sense. They knew each other since their teenage years, why and how they lost it all in such a chaotic way?

Chan wanted to be Dino again. He wanted to dance again.

And Pledis took it all away from him, even his second family.

Walking through the apartment, he laughed. Of course, he knew Pledis wasn’t the one to blame, but it was easier than recalling the time he hated his best friends.

In a corner of the room, he found his favorite board game scattered in the floor. Chan had thrown it there last night, while having a tantrum caused by the loneliness. That game, which still was confusing to him, used to be property of all of them, back when they lived together.

Taking the dices and throwing them to the floor, Chan waited to see the numbers: 7, 7, 3 and 4. Following the rules, he moved his token, falling in the box of “go back to the beginning”. Again, 3 and 4. He didn’t knew how, but he kept falling only on that choice.

It it were that easy, Chan would have gone back to the beginning. Just like that confusing boardgame that Jisoo insisted in buying and only him, Wonwoo and Jihoon used. He would have turned back time to the first fight between then and would have stopped it. That way, those awful aftermaths would have never happened.

But he couldn’t do it, he didn’t do it when he had the chance. And, just as his twelve other friends, he was drowning in pain because of it.

Chan kept playing with the dices, hoping one of his old friends woke him up from that nightmare. He wanted to hear the annoying tone of Jeonghan asking “Dino, whose baby are you?” and answer it reluctantly.

He also wished to see Jisoo making fun of Jeonghan because “Han, Channie is only four years younger than you. He can’t be your baby. So he’s mine”; which would lead to a dumb dispute of who deserved him, that ended in Soonyoung hugging him and claiming he was his precious baby boy.

Even after becoming an adult, an scene like that was something typical.

And Chan really wanted to live it again.

 

 

_ He never really understood that board game, but it was okay… _

_ Chan was happy when Jisoo tried to teach him. _


	8. Wonwoo

**_WONWOO_ **

He was the only one to stay in their apartment.

He talked to his ex boss, and decided to buy him the place where he and his friends had lived for years. Since Seventeen didn’t existed anymore and he couldn’t care less for what happened to them, the CEO of Pledis accepted the offer and let Wonwoo do whatever he wanted with the place.

In the beginning, he liked it. Being there gave Wonwoo the feeling of waiting for the others, and that they could overcome it all to be together again. He was happy with giving them time and in the meantime taking care of their home.

However, six months later, Wonwoo hated to be there. Every room, corner, every object. There were memories for everything. And the suffocating absence of his friends was exhausting; Wonwoo only wanted to run away and leave the memories, laughter and pain behind.

Most of the time, Wonwoo was lying around in any place of the apartment. He didn’t sleep, instead he just let the abnormal silence drown him and take him back to those days were the thirteen boys talked until the sun was starting to come out in the sky, feeling at home and happy. Then the reality sank in him and he just got up to drag his feet to another place of his home, with the same plan in mind.

After having a plain and dull day, Wonwoo decided to go back to his room, throwing himself in the purple sheets of his bed. With the control in his hand, he turned the TV, and it’s screen immediately starts doing static. 

Snorting softly, Wonwoo threw the control to his feet. That TV had been giving problems for almost two years and it stayed like that because Mingyu –the one who fixed stuff in their home, since anyone else could end up starting a fire –insisted he’d fix it later. Later.

And with that later, everybody abandoned Seventeen. Wonwoo liked to think he didn’t, at least not completely, because he wanted to trust in his friends. Their group was the most beautiful thing they had ever done, and he wanted to believe they wouldn’t let it die either.

But, as the days passed and he was still alone inside those four walls, he realized more and more of his mistake. Nonetheless, Wonwoo wasn’t able to turn around and leave as well.

Between the static, he saw that in the TV they were playing one of their videos, one of hip hop unit. It was “Check In”, one of his favorite songs of his unit.

Sometimes, he wondered who he failed the most. Out of curiosity, and the news he rarely watched, he knew where most of the guys were. But Hansol… The younger just disappeared. 

 

 

 

_ Would Hansol be as lonely as he felt? _


	9. Hoshi

**_HOSHI_ **

Even if he tried to run away, the press would always find him.

It was maddening, but Soonyoung knew why they were after him: out of the thirteen of them, he was always the most approachable. Even when they fought daily.

So it didn’t matter if he was far away from everything, in a beautiful room with a view to the sea, the damn phone ringing made him feel at the center of Seoul, where anybody could judge him.

It was the incessant call of the reporters the ones who caused this new found fear of cameras. Or of anything that can communicate him with the show biz, to be honest.

Was it that he didn’t had the right to cry and be angry, just as his friends were doing? No. It was his duty to keep the tabloids in calm, feed the monster and avoid new rumors of the dissolved group.

All of them were too tired to see themselves again in the news.

And Soonyoung hated to have accepted to be their protector. He also felt so damn tired. The good mood and funny jokes that used to define him were now only memories; along with all good memories that involved his twelve friends. If it wasn’t with them, there was no point to be that guy.

Besides, his agonizing fame was taking the little that was left of him.

The phone rang again and the black haired boy decided to answer. If he didn’t, the annoying tone would haunt him in his dreams too.

But he didn’t spoke. Soonyoung let the voice at the other side to explain their call and –after hearing the news –he hung up.

With those simple and short words, Soonyoung knew that a part of his life had just ended. And the worst of all was that he could only watch as it happened. Anyway, nothing would change now. Not when it was too late.

Grabbing the small piece of paper next to the phone that had been there for weeks, Soonyoung knew that he had to be their protector one more time. Even if he was falling to pieces, that was his role in this new and broken Seventeen they were now.

Somehow, he liked to think that at least they still were connected to each other.

After unfolding the paper, Soonyoung ran his finger through the numbers written in it before grabbing the phone and dial them. He only had to wait for a few seconds for the other to pick up. He swallowed –his fears, anxiety and pain –and tried hard for his voice not to break while he talked.

 

 

 

 

_ How much he had missed Jun’s soothing voice. _

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	10. Seungkwan

**_SEUNGKWAN_ **

He liked to be back in Jeju. After all, it was his home.

Or that was he wanted to believe. His mom, sad and tired, sent him every day to the Laundromat, with a basket full of clothes. Seungkwan knew it was to keep him busy, because how could a family of three –since his sisters got married and no longer lived with their parents –get so many clothes dirty in a daily basis?

But Seungkwan didn’t said anything about it so, every morning, he accepted the basket and change from his mother; and left to spend his entire day alone in that place. He didn’t care. There, he could suffer with more liberty and even dream that his friends were there with him. It was nice to do it, and Seungkwan wasn’t bothered by his sisters telling him it was time to move on.

He even liked to watch the sea through the window and get lost in the memories, those which once were so sweet and now tasted so bitter. The sound of the machines had started to be comforting, and his skills to play with the coins got considerably better after six months.

There was one time where he was so focused playing that he forgot where he was and why, and ran looking for Vernon because he had finally mastered the technique that the younger boy taught him. It wasn’t until he found himself outside the store that he remembered everything. Seungkwan went back inside the laundromat and let himself fall in one of the chairs, feeling defeated.

When the sun started to hide, Seungkwan went back to his home. He left the coins in a counter and piled his clothes lazily, trying his hardest to leave at sunset. When he got home, his parents welcomed him with a smile and even though he tried to smile them back, all he could make was a pretty awkward expression.

After six months of being back with his family, Seungkwan felt immensely thankful to them. Somehow, they kind of eased his pained. He missed Seventeen with every little piece of his soul that was left, but it was a little easier to ignore that when his mother pampered him.

Until he remembered he was the youngest there. He had always been, as the last child, but now –after his group’s death –it felt weird. Wrong.

 

 

_ Just one more time… He wanted Chan to call him hyung. _


	11. The8

****

_**THE8** _

He had to go back to China. After being in Korea, without the people who were next to him since day one, it was too painful to handle it. Even in places where they had never went together, he still felt that oppression in his lungs that made it hard to breathe and his sight became blurry from the tears.

So he bought himself a house in his hometown, this time closer to the ocean, and returned home. Or what was left of it, after his heart got torn and scattered between those two countries –and the people he loved in them.

There were moments where he convinced himself of his happiness. Like when he went shopping, greeted all the salers and even joked with the greengrocer of the huge apples. Then he bought a bread roll and something to put in it, and finally smiled to the little girl who sells objects for good luck and accepted the magic ball that –instead of saying something after being shaken –just showed random numbers.

The ride back was almost the same. He spoke to his neighbors, laugh to their jokes and play with the dogs and puppies that crossed his path.

Minghao could almost lie to himself, could almost believe he was happy. But then, that façade fell down when he got home and went to the living room. He left the groceries in the dining table, walked around a little –as if he didn’t knew his house already –and then sit on one of the chairs.

By the moment when the bag with the groceries fell for its weight, Minghao was already too lost in his tears. Hiding his head between his hands, he let himself cry. Every single day, the same routine.

The despair always beats him, eating him from the inside, and starting from the heart. Minghao tried, he really gives the best of him when he smiles at the people on the street, and always promises he won’t cry when he’d be at home, alone. But depression was a new found companion and enemy, and there was no way to protect from its attacks in the loneliness.

He just wanted it to be over. Minghao wanted to see them once more, or never see them again. But he needed to know which one would be now, because the pain was becoming unbearable.

And because that old photograph was starting to lose its color. It was so blurry that some of their faces were impossible to differentiate.

 

 

_ And Minghao was terrified, because he had started to forget Seokmin’s face. _


	12. Joshua

**_JOSHUA_ **

He failed them.

Even if it hadn’t been entirely his fault, Jisoo felt like he let his friends down. All of them. For allowing anger to take over him, for letting his words became knifes and even taking advantage of being one of the eldest to justify all of it. To his best friends, who gave him so much, he paid them with tiredness and aggressiveness; things he never before had shown or let others know he felt.

But specially, he failed himself… And Mingyu. Both of them, who actually saw the end coming, were the most afraid. They expressed each on their own way –Jisoo becoming distant and scathing, Mingyu exploding in rage at any moment –but he knew that no one else but the younger also felt the end near. And still, aware that Mingyu wouldn’t know what to do to stop the chaos, Jisoo gave up.

The sky through the window was grey, exactly that the landscape that decorated his mind from six months already, and he sighed in pain. In days like these, those that hugged his body with a cold and gloomy weather, he wondered why he was able to believe that everything would be ok if he ran away. It made him want to punch himself for accepting so easily the CEO’s decision. And the courage that Jeonghan admired so much of him had died there, that day. He just thought that picking up his stuff from his apartment and leaving would make him forget everything: ten years of the best memories next to the people he loved the most in this world.

At the familiar pressure climbing up his throat, he opened the water tap and made a bowl with his hands. Joshua honestly didn’t understood how, after crying so much, his body was still able to produce tears. If he kept on like that, the risk of dehydration wasn’t such a crazy thing to think of.

He dipped his face and bit his lower lip at the memories flowing to his mind.

Recalling how, while everyone were packing their belongings in an overwhelming silence, Mingyu went to his side and begged to help him fix their mess. The two of them could save their group, and the younger was aware of it. So Mingyu grabbed him by the shoulders and prayed for him to not give up. If Jisoo had the courage to get up and fight, the taller would follow him.

But Jisoo, feeling numb and with stinging eyes, picked up his stuff and left. He didn’t look at Mingyu, not even once, hoping that would be enough of an answer. 

And the sky, grey and clouded, tells him it was. The universe was returning him that answer, showing what was left unsaid: Jisoo was a coward.

Even when he had the enough strength to call Jun a few days back, he still was a coward. People were made of their past, and Jisoo’s made him feel ashamed.

Would it be any different now if he had reached for Mingyu, letting him grab that hand to avoid both of them to drown?

 

 

_ Because even if he didn’t dared to look at Mingyu when he was leaving, he knew very well that he left a boy sitting in the bed behind him. A boy about to break in a thousand pieces. _

 


	13. S.Coups

**_S.COUPS_ **

He really thanked to had went through Seventeen’s web page earlier that morning and distracting himself with their fan café.

Thanks to them, who still loved them all, Seungcheol knew that one of his friends was now in Daegu. He didn’t care why, but only knew that he would find him. So, after reading all of the messages of their Carats –that were quite surprised of one of the members using that chat after the disband –with all the details of who was in his hometown and where, Seventeen’s leader took his wallet and phone, and ran to the streets.

People looked at him, weirded out by this guy that was running nonstop through the entire town, but he couldn’t worry about them or his old dying fame. He needed to fix his mistakes, and stand up more firmly than ever before.

Because, even if he was the eldest and the leader, Seungcheol always had a strong personality. In all their discussions, Jeonghan and Jisoo used to be the ones who kept calm and made the rest follow their example. They, by his side, always helped the leader to be better… And with the patience of both of them next to him, Seungcheol could make it. So, he should have seen the disaster coming when he started to drift away and fight about nonsense with them two.

The three eldest fell to the claws of hatred and that was how Seventeen died.

But he wouldn’t make those mistakes again. He had been running for almost an hour, sometimes getting lost in unfamiliar streets. Seungcheol was starting to believe he didn’t knew where he was, or if the fans’ rumors were true.

Stopping at a corner, he put his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. Maybe it was time to go home and rest –and it wouldn’t hurt to deny the rumors to the fans. After all, their Carats loved them when they were a bunch of assholes and deserved nothing but the truth.

He leaned his body in a stop signal, with closed eyes and a hand over his chest that still thumped hard for the exercise.

What could he expect when he was six months late? It was absurd. Seungcheol started to walk home, feeling every step as a verdict. The Seventeen they fought so much to create wouldn’t exist anymore, and there was no one else to blame but him: the leader.

But he heard a soft voice call his name next to him and he looked at the person without any interest.

Jeonghan.

Seungcheol froze, unsure of how to react to the refreshing presence of one of his best friends, but inside he felt like screaming and jumping with joy. With him, Seungcheol could get the others back. They could rise from the ashes. Jeonghan and him, being the two eldest, had the enough strength to carry the guilt and reunite with all the others.

And nothing could make Seungcheol happier. He smiled to the –now –blonde and tried to convey his relieve. The pain eased while looking to the younger, and he felt hope. He let himself dream with the forgiveness of his friends.

 

 

 

_ But… Why did Jeonghan looked so broken? _


	14. SEVENTEEN

_**SEVENTEEN** _

Wonwoo was fighting to reach for his keys in the pocket of his coat. After several days of hiding in his apartment, that morning he knew he had to go buy some groceries. The marked ribs in his torso didn’t let him pretend to forget anymore.

So there he was, in front of his door, fighting with the supermarket bag and trying to open the door of what was once his home. Nothing would ever be the same and he knew it, but he was still too weak to move out. If that empty apartment was the only thing he could have of Seventeen, he’d never leave it.

There weren’t many tears left to cry, but the memories on those walls destroyed him on a daily basis.

Opening the door, he walked in looking at the floor, more focused on taking of his shoes and not falling than of the empty space that welcomed him. However, still with his left shoe on, the unusual noise made him stop. Wonwoo looked up and the image made his eyes burn: Jihoon was playing with a guitar in his favorite couch, the three eldest were squeezed in a couch with Chan in the middle, watching some dumb show on the TV. Soonyoung, Seokmin and Seungkwan were pretending they had their own variety show and Hansol was their very bewildered victim. Jun was calmly watching the entire scene with a nostalgic smile plastered in his face, sitting near a window.

He didn’t see Mingyu anywhere, but the delicious aroma coming from the kitchen confirmed him of his whereabouts.

Thanks to the noise he made when entering, they all looked at him and greeted him; as if it hadn’t been months since the last time they saw each other. Wonwoo decided to ignore them, because they could be hallucinations from food depravation, so he left his groceries on the table and turned around to throw his keys in a table on the hall –it had been since Seventeen was still alive, and they decided to keep all of their keys safe in a same place while they were home, because it was almost ridiculous the number of times any of them had been locked out of their home.

However, his hand froze midway when he saw all the bouquets –so many colors and types of flowers –over the table, surrounding the picture of Minghao hanging above it.

He didn’t wanted to cry, because it was becoming too much to his tired body. He didn’t wanted to shed tears over something he could have avoided, because he knew that Minghao did what every one of them wanted since the day Seventeen died. Wonwoo didn’t wanted to live another more day in the past, wishing to have done something before it was too late, before Minghao couldn’t handle their absence anymore.

But the only thing he could actually do since Soonyoung call to give him the news was cry. Wonwoo fell on his knees, right in front of that little table, and brought his hands to his chest, clenching the shirt as if that could mitigate his pain.

And, while bitter and heavy tears were falling from his eyes, he stopped feeling lonely after many many months. His friends rushed to him, and Wonwoo found himself surrounded by the arms of eleven of his best friends, and he wanted to yell at them for taking so long, but the tears didn’t let him. He wanted to get mad, complain because it was the twelve guys’ fault that it was too late for Minghao. For his sweet and sarcastic Chinese boy, the one they so patiently and warmly taught their language. But his heart was light, finally relieved to have them near.

─I’m sorry. –They all whispered, the sound almost drowned in their sobbings. –So sorry. –They repeated, not knowing if it was meant for themselves, for the ones next to them or for Minghao.

─We love you. –Seungcheol said with a broken voice and nobody needed to look at him to know he was saying it to the one that was no longer with them. Someday they would follow him, but it wasn’t their time yet. Now they had to clean the mess they left behind, in his honor.

 

 

_Even though you are being alone, remember we are on your side and don't be afraid of all the fears you have._


End file.
